The real story behind the NBA’s love of Napa Valley and Bordeaux

Plus: Eye-opening wines from Paso Robles, and why everyone needs a high school reunion bar

Adonal Foyle, in his wine cellar at home in Orinda, purchased a large-format Robert Mondavi bottle after signing his contract with the Golden State Warriors in 1997. Foyle has been a wine collector for decades.

When you’re a wine writer, you don’t expect opportunities to watch NBA players like Steph Curry and Klay Thompson practice shooting after a day of training camp, especially while sitting on the sidelines to interview Draymond Green. But after months of trying to chase a story about why professional basketball players like Green have become enamored of fine wine — and having little luck during the offseason — that’s where I found myself.

I was a little shocked when Green, one of the biggest personalities in today’s NBA, agreed to the interview. I’d been impressed by seeing his trip to Bordeaux unfold on Instagram last summer — Petrus! Latour! Cheval Blanc! — and then watching him swirl a big glass of red wine while sitting in a barbershop chair on LeBron James’ HBO show “The Shop.” But was his passion deep enough that he’d want to talk about it with a wine writer?

It’s no secret that Green, James and a host of other high-profile NBA players like Chris Paul, Kevin Love and Carmelo Anthony are fine wine lovers. An excellent story by Baxter Holmes in ESPN last February helped spread that news, chronicling the Cleveland Cavaliers’ trip to Napa Valley in the wake of the 2017 wildfires.

But that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to know why wine had taken off so powerfully among pro basketball players. Was it a health thing — switching from pounding Tequila to sipping Cabernet? Was it a competitive thing, to see who could discover the hottest under-the-radar new wine label? Yes, and more. After months of research, I came to believe that we can see the NBA’s new obsession with wine as part of the same storyline as the league’s interest in tech investment, political activism and personal branding.

P.S. On a completely separate note, for those of you who have been following Joe Wagner’s scandals in Oregon, I published a major update this weekend that includes, for the first time, Wagner’s whole side of the story.

What I’m drinking

Photo: Patrick Tehan / Special To The Chronicle

Jeremy Weintraub is the winemaker at Paso Robles’ Adelaida Vineyards. He also makes wines under his own personal brand, Site Wines.

Jeremy Weintraub is the winemaker at Paso Robles’ Adelaida...

Among the most surprising wines I’ve tasted in 2018 is Adelaida’s HMR Vineyard Pinot Noir, from old vines in west Paso Robles. So surprising was this wine, in fact, that it launched a whole column, in which I address the question: How can Pinot Noir, which we think of as suitable only in cooler climates, thrive in a place like Paso Robles, which many assume to be a sweltering hot climate? That Adelaida HMR Pinot ($60 for the 2016 vintage), made by winemaker Jeremy Weintraub, is certainly worth seeking out. But what I didn’t get to discuss in the story are the excellent wines that Weintraub makes under his own personal label, called Site.

Site is a teeny-tiny brand, producing just about 500 cases of Rhone-style wines from Santa Barbara County. Among my favorites is Site’s Bien Nacido Vineyards Syrah ($50), whose 2015 vintage is peppery and deeply savory. Generous without being weighty, it has a richness of flavor in a relatively light frame, with an irresistible note of roasted meat punctuating a core of bright fruit.

Where I’m drinking

Everyone has one: a high school reunion bar, the haunt where you go when you’re home visiting your family for the holidays. Emma Silvers deftly examines this trope by braving a trip to Mill Valley’s 2 AM Club on a night when all of the 22-year-old Tamalpais High School grads have convened there to live out their unrealized teenage dreams. “The high school meet-up bar is truly about possibility more than reality,” Silvers writes. I love how she turns what could be an inane trip to a dive bar on a Wednesday night into a think piece.